In spite of all the rain and flooding there was hardly any power cut, at least in our locality in Bhubaneswar. During last couple of days the state capital and its vicinity got enough rain to graduate from deficit to surplus. The rain has grounded the dust in air, swiping off the dirt from the foliage like wiper blades of a car. The air looks clean and crispy. The buildings are looking wet but brighter in sunshine peeping through the cloud. No one minds this respite from incessant rains.
Monsoon season is very unique to India during which it gets bulk of its annual rainfall. It is accompanied by the reversal of wind direction. Arriving just after a long, torturous hot summer it quenches the thirst of a parched earth. Everyone eagerly waits for its arrival - from the farmers to poets, from villagers to city dwellers, from kids to seniors. Farmers to start their KHARIF (summer) Crop, the city dwellers for a reprieve from heat and poets to add one more ode to myriads of poems dedicated to the monsoon.
In West where winters are wet, cloudy depicting morbid gloom, the arrival of sunshine is celebrated. In contrast, in India the dark clouds with thunderclap followed by torrential rains is a welcome phenomena. Birds start singing, Bards sing legendary songs in the praise of the arrival of the monsoon, Peacocks spread their colorful tails to dance to the tune of rains. Dark clouds as silver lines are welcomed in India over sunshine which is associated with heat and dust. It brings joy and respite from the never ending Indian summer.
People looks at the sky to savor this rare occasion of the first monsoon rains marking arrival of rainy season. Poets are motivated to let their pen capture the moment. Many love songs are written over the advent of monsoon - from the romance of Radha and Krishna, to songs of Bollywood depicting drenched actors and actresses eager to shower in the first shower of the season for the viewer's delight. Legendary poet and dramatist Kalidasa several centuries ago wrote an eulogy to cloud in his MEGHADOOTAM (Cloud Messenger) to carry the message from the lover to the beloved.
The celebration is not just limited to the reel world. In real world people come out to play, enjoy sitting on swings propelled by cool, gusty winds accompanying the rain, singing songs of delight to welcome the arrival of Monsoon. Swings play an important part in the Odis festival RAJA exactly timed around the arrival of the monsoon season. Many love to get drenched, as they believe that getting soaked in the first rains of the season cures skin infections.
Monsoon is rarely an equalizer, far from being uniform. It could be deficit at one place but at the same time causing waterlogging in the cities and floods elsewhere. Vagaries of monsoon is neither new, nor unheard of. Its inherent tendency is bountiful one year, scanty the next. Invariably every year, the monsoon arrives in the month of June and takes leave in early October, with a highly inequitable distribution of rainfall. This Odia proverb aptly depicts the vagaries of monsoon :
JALA BAHULE SRUSTI NAASA,
JALA BIHUNE SRUSTI NAASA, meaning
"Lack of water causes catastrophe,
Excess of water causes catastrophe."
Went out in the evening to run some errands. At entrance of the store a GUPCHUP (Golgappa or Panipuri) vendor was busy perforating the large, crunchy, puffed shells using his long, uncut thumb nails looking dark from the dirt inside it. Instantly inserting mashed potato and chickpea paste into it, he dipped the shell into the spicy water stored in a large, earthen pot before distributing it to the surrounding buyers.
The vendor's customers, almost all of them girls holding tiny plates made from leaves (more eco friendly than plastic plates) were taking their turns extending their hands to the man, demanding - "MATE AU TIKE PANI DIA. MATE SUKHA GOTE DIA" (Gimme more spicy water, gimme a dry one). The multitasking man was super busy catering to their needs and counting the numbers consumed by each individual.
Done with their rounds of GUPCHUP munching, the girls left their leftover plates strewn around, a pariah dog lurking around, waiting for the right opportunity started licking them, polishing off whatever he could in the narrow window of the timeframe he had before being chased away.
He was soon to be vindicated. The irritated vendor shooed him away with "HEY JA JA (Go away), as the hapless mongrel fled with tail well tucked behind hind legs. The showers left puddles of water all over. Feeling secured and safe from a distance of 20 feet, the dogs started slurping from one of the puddles to quench their thirst post feasting on the spicy GUPCHUPs.
Talking of puddles, I was reminded of this incident few years back. One evening that summer after a bout of fresh monsoon rain Tanujaa (my wife), Sidhant (my son) and I were waiting on the street right next to our house for our Uber ride. 3 guys on a motorcycle started oggling at Tanujaa, their heads turned in unison by 90 degrees towards her, like they hadn't seen a girl before. All of sudden their pillion stumbled a pothole filled with ankle deep water. Distracted, one of them fell on the muddy poodle, while the other two got busy extricating their buddy from the mess. We had a hearty laugh at the fallen hero's expense. Monsoon has its share of fun and joy. More later....
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